


His Boy

by TheMightyFlynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Cock Rings, Dominance, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Submission, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24968395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: Rabastan had not expected to actually enjoy this arrangement when Draco had first proposed it. Now, however, now no one touches his Boy.
Relationships: Rabastan Lestrange/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	His Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humanveil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/gifts).



> Written for the [Daily Deviant](https://daily-deviant.dreamwidth.org/) Banging Birthday 2020.

Nerves slid down Draco's spine. His entire body tingled with them, from his forehead down to his toes. His step was firm, however, and his determination solid. There was nothing that was going to stop him from taking action he knew he needed to. Entering the library of Malfoy Manor without knocking, he strode into the room, his head held high.

Dappled sunlight filtered through the high windows of the library, casting strange shadows over the deep blue suede lounge setting by the table. The dark wood of the table seemed to absorb the sunlight, although it glinted off the glass and bottle sitting off to the right. Draco's eyes slid from the table to the man sitting before it as he shifted his weight.

"Lestrange."

Draco had met many people over the past few years who had spent time in Azkaban. Rabastan Lestrange, however, _looked_ like he had done time. From his long, scraggly red-brown hair – which was peppered with greys – to the deep, dark circles around his haunted-looking green eyes, it was written all over him. Even his thin frame told Draco that he hadn't been getting the nourishment that he really should have. When he met Lestrange's eyes, his stomach did a nervous jig.

"Young Master Malfoy." Lestrange's voice was hollow. He shifted in the chair again, his eyes seemingly unable to focus on Draco. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Draco swallowed. He had been so determined to do this, but now that he was here, ready to ask – or demand if needed – he was hesitating. It was necessary, he knew it was. There was too much riding on him this coming year for him to risk becoming distracted. He needed to not have to worry about the kinds of people who were coming and going at all hours in his home. And, for that to happen, he needed protection. Preferably from someone the others would hesitate to piss off. And Rabastan Lestrange definitely fit that profile. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly.

"I want to talk to you."

Lestrange hissed out a laugh. There was no smile accompanying it, and nothing to indicate that he actually found Draco's words amusing. Draco's nerves shuddered again. He watched as Lestrange leant forward and poured himself a glass of whatever was in the bottle.

"So…" Lestrange waved the glass through the air. "Talk."

"I–" Draco took a small step forwards, then hesitated again. Lestrange was staring at him, but his eyes were still unfocussed. Draco's gaze went to the bottle on the table. "Are you sober enough to actually remember what I am about to say?"

The cellar of the Manor had been thoroughly decimated in the past few months. Whatever it was that Lestrange was guzzling, it must be expensive. When Lestrange let out that same humourless, hissing laugh, Draco had to repress a physical shudder.

"This… _swill_ is hardly enough to get me buzzed, Malfoy, let alone properly drunk." Lestrange's lip curled as he stared at the glass in his hand. "Father would roll in his grave if he saw me lowering myself to these standards."

There was such a strong sense of pride in those words that Draco almost felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He knew how the Lestrange family had lived before their two sons had been imprisoned fifteen years previously. The standard of living to which Draco had become accustomed seemed to be lacking a little when it came to how Rabastan and Rodolphus had been raised. But then, Draco considered, times had been different back then. The Dark Lord had been gaining more and more power, and people had felt much easier about displaying their loyalties. He shook his head when he realised that he had become distracted.

"Right. Fine." Clearing his throat, he stepped closer again. "Look, I know you owe me nothing–"

"Damn right I don't," Lestrange interrupted with a small snort. "Say what you came to say, boy, then leave me to my swill."

The tone of pride that had touched Lestrange's voice tipped rapidly into dismissive arrogance. Draco held back the automatic retort he was about to make, but only by sheer force of will. Clenching his hands by his sides, he leant forward.

"I want protection."

This time when Lestrange's eyes met his own, there was no cloudiness to them, no haze. "Excuse me?"

"Protection, Lestrange. You wanted me to just say what I came here for. I want protection. I have been watching you. I've seen the way the others treat you, seen how they are all afraid of you. They… The way they look at me, it's…" Draco cut himself off, his eyes dropping to his shoes. "I want–"

Draco was cut off once again by that hissing laugh. His head snapped up in time to see Lestrange shaking his head and bringing the glass up to his lips to take a deep swallow.

"What makes you think _I_ would want to help protect _you_? Especially from that lot out there?"

Draco blinked. "I have money, I can pay–"

"Try again."

"My family has properties. You can–"

"Don't need them."

"French vineyards?"

"Hate the fucking French."

"But you clearly like their wine. If I could–"

"Try. Again."

"Father has influence with–"

Lestrange burst out in true laughter this time. For some reason, it sent a stronger shudder of fear down Draco's spine than the quiet hissing had earlier.

"What?" he demanded, anger beginning to bubble through beneath the fear. Not being allowed to even finish a sentence was beginning to fray his nerves. "What is so funny?"

" _Father has influence with all the top Ministry employees. I could get you a job, Mister Lestrange_."

The mocking tone further grated against Draco's nerves. His hands clenched by his sides again.

"Forget it. Clearly I have come to the wrong person."

Turning on his heel, he marched back towards the door. He was just reaching for the handle when Lestrange spoke again.

"How old are you, boy?"

Draco's shoulders tensed. Standing staring at the doorhandle, he let out a slow breath through his nose. This had been a stupid idea. He should walk away. Right now. Instead, with nerves still clenching his stomach, he turned back.

"Sixteen."

Lestrange's eyes roamed down Draco's body. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as he offered up a slow smile. Draco's hand clenched on the handle, beginning to twist it as Lestrange stared at him.

"Come see me tonight. I'm sure we can work _something_ out."

*~*

" _You let Potter escape!_ "

"No, no, I didn't know, I swear, I–"

"Potter, Draco, it was Potter. _How_ could you not have recognised him?"

"You saw his face! How am I supposed–"

"Did you lie to me, Draco? Did you lie to your Aunt?"

Rabastan heaved a heavy sigh. This screeching had been going on for what seemed like hours. He had arrived back at the Manor from the assignment the Dark Lord had set him to find Bellatrix already in full swing. From what he could gather, the dog had captured three people, one of whom had apparently been Potter. They had escaped, however.

"It's not nice to lie to your family, Draco."

Bellatrix's voice had lowered to a purr. It was a nice change from the high-pitched screams, but Rabastan knew it didn't bode well. Not for anyone in the house, but Draco especially.

"Do you know what happens to young boys who lie to their family, Draco?"

"I – I didn't lie, I swear."

Rabastan's gaze flicked over to where Rodolphus sat, merely watching his wife. Bellatrix was not someone any wise person wanted to mess with, especially when it came to family matters. No one had ever accused Rabastan of being wise, however. Besides, taking their little 'arrangement' into account, it was his duty to stop this. His jaw clenched as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Bella." His voice was sharp, echoing off the marble walls of the Malfoy formal living room. "That's enough."

All eyes in the room swivelled to him, including Bellatrix's. The others – Dolohov, Rowle, and Macnair – all watched him with interest, but it was Bella and Rodolphus that Rabastan was most wary of.

"Enough, is it?" Bella's voice was still low, still dangerous. "Why would _you_ care what happens to little Draco here?"

Rabastan glanced down to where Bellatrix had Draco pinned to the door of the living room. His eyes were wide and his chest rose and fell rapidly with his harsh breaths. Rabastan's mind flicked back to a night several days previous, and a situation where Draco had also been breathless, but for a much more pleasing reason. A strong sense of possessiveness crowded his chest, curling his top lip as he stared Bellatrix down.

"I don't. Give him to me."

"What?" Bellatrix's voice levelled out, losing the menacing tone. "Why would I do that?"

Rabastan shifted his gaze from Draco back to Bellatrix. "Because I _don't care_ what happens to him. You want him to suffer for his failure to the Dark Lord? Hand him over. I will teach him a lesson he never forgets."

Bellatrix's eyes widened. They were dark and there was always a spark of insanity to them, but now it intensified. She licked her lips as she turned back to Draco.

"Punishment? You're offering to punish him?"

Rabastan shook his head. "No. I am offering to make sure he never fails the Dark Lord again."

The glint of joy to Bellatrix's eyes as she turned back to him would have been enough to scare him, if he had retained the ability to be afraid of anything that wasn't a Dementor. She leant forward, placing her hands either side of Draco's head against the door.

"You hear that, Draco? Is this what you want?"

"I–"

Draco's eyes flicked from Bellatrix to where Rabastan stood. Rabastan could see the spark of interest deep within them, but he was certain Bellatrix wouldn't recognise it. He licked his lips before continuing.

"I don't think–"

"No, Draco, you didn't," Bellatrix interrupted. She glanced back at Rabastan behind her. "And now you will suffer the consequences for it."

Grabbing Draco by the scruff of his neck, she propelled him towards Rabastan. Draco stumbled, but Rabastan made no move to catch him. When he landed on his knees before him, Rabastan's lips curled into a smirk.

"Do you need him back and in one piece for something important? Or can I take my time?"

The shiver that ran through Draco was visible, causing Bella to cackle. "Oh, take your time, please. The Dark Lord won't be interested in him for a long time now, due to his failure."

Rabastan gave her a short nod before reaching down to grab the neck of Draco's robes. Yanking him to his feet, Rabastan gave him a shove towards the door.

"Go to my rooms, Boy. I require a few minutes with your Aunt Bellatrix."

He watched Draco's retreating form, noting the clenching of his hands and the shuddering breath he took. Rabastan shook his head.

"I have no timeline? No restrictions?"

Bellatrix's responding smile was wicked. "None. Do to him as you see fit."

Rabastan's mind raced as he nodded and began to make his way up to his rooms. There were many things that he wanted to do to Draco, but had not had the opportunity, as they would have left obvious marks on him. Now, however, it seemed that he had carte blanche to do as he liked. His heartrate increased, causing his blood to begin to thud in his ears. He closed and locked the door behind him, casting charms to make certain they would not be disturbed as he entered his rooms. Draco was not waiting for him in the outer room, but Rabastan had not expected him to be.

Entering the bedroom, Rabastan had to smile. Draco made a beautiful sight: kneeling naked at the side of the bed, his clothing neatly folded over the back of a chair, and his head bowed. It was a position Rabastan had drilled into him over the past year. Obedience. That was all he asked of Draco, and it was what he received. And this was the perfect position for Draco to carry out any task Rabastan set him. Unbuttoning his robes, he began to discard his clothing on the floor before Draco.

"Did you hear your Aunt, Boy?"

Draco picked up Rabastan's robe, folded it and moved to place it gently over the back of a second chair by the wardrobe. He did not respond until he was back beside the bed.

"Yes, Sir."

Rabastan continued to remove his clothing, dropping each piece before Draco. When he was completely naked, he stepped aside.

"Do you know what this means, Boy?"

Draco picked up the clothing and placed each piece where it belonged, either folded with the robe, or in the hamper. When he returned to his position, he shook his head.

"No, Sir."

Rabastan flicked his wand, casting a silent charm. A pair of doors opened on the far side of the room.

"You will not merely be serving me tonight, Boy. We will be playing. It will get rough." When Draco swallowed audibly, Rabastan glanced down at him. "Your Aunt will require proof that you have been punished appropriately. Do you understand me, Boy?"

Draco let out a shaky breath, but nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Good."

Turning, Rabastan stepped around Draco and made his way to the hidden wardrobe he had just revealed. He saw no reason anyone else would need to know that he had this wardrobe; it would cause unwanted questions to be asked. The contents were not exactly what the average person kept in their bedroom. Reaching out, he caressed a cat o' nine tails.

"Do you have a preference for your punishment, Boy?"

"I–"

When Draco paused, Rabastan's lip turned up in a sneer. "Speak, Boy! Do not disobey me unless you truly wish to be punished."

"Sorry, Sir." Draco's voice wavered only a little. "I want… I want to be spanked, Sir."

Amusement bubbled up in Rabastan's chest. "'Spanked'? Is that it, Boy? Do you think that a fitting punishment for failure to the Dark Lord?"

"I want your hand on me, Sir. I want – no, I _need_ – to feel you, Sir."

Rabastan hissed out a laugh. "Ah, so this is about getting off to you, is it, Boy? You want me to touch you? You want my bare hand on your arse? My fingers inside you? Is that it?"

Turning, Rabastan noted that Draco had not moved from his position. His shoulders had tensed, however, the muscles bunching.

"I want–"

"To come?" Abandoning the wardrobe, Rabastan strode over so he could grasp a handful of Draco's hair, yanking his head backwards. "Is that all I am good for to you, Boy? To make you come? You believe that tonight will be all about you and your wants and needs?"

Draco's eyes widened. "No, Sir, I–"

"Do not lie to me, Boy."

A shiver ran the length of Draco's body. Rabastan smiled as he saw a quick flash of fear through his eyes.

"I _do_ want to come, Sir, yes. I – I just thought–"

Draco's mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth when Rabastan held his free hand up. Pleasure at being so quickly obeyed flooded Rabastan's chest, but he pushed it down. A small smile crossed his face as an idea occurred to him. If Draco wanted to come, then come he would.

"Perhaps you are right, Boy." Loosening his grip, he straightened, throwing a look back to the wardrobe. "Stay."

The wardrobe was full of all sorts of toys. Rabastan was after a very specific one, however. While he was there, he grabbed the cat o' nine tails and tossed it onto the bed. He heard a quiet intake of breath, but he ignored it. A bottle of lubricant followed the cat onto the bed. Rummaging in the back of the wardrobe, he finally came across what he was searching for: a purple-and-green patterned ring.

"Do you know what this is, Boy?"

Draco did not turn, instead waiting for Rabastan to thrust the ring in front of his face, just as he had been instructed. Rabastan smiled.

"A, uh, cock ring, Sir?"

Draco licked his lips. There was a touch of nerves to his voice, but it was nearly overwhelmed with anticipation. Rabastan's smile widened.

"Very good, Boy. And do you know what is special about this particular cock ring?"

Leaning down, Rabastan brushed the backs of his fingers over Draco's half-hard cock. Inserting Draco into the ring was not difficult, but getting it to stay proved an issue. Rabastan gave him a few quick, dry strokes, hardening him just enough to make the fit snug.

"I, ah, oh!"

A snap of Rabastan's fingers set the ring to vibrating. Straightening, he watched Draco's reaction. When a pink flush began to colour Draco's skin, Rabastan smiled, moving to seat himself on the edge of the bed.

"Sir?"

"Do not touch yourself, Boy."

Draco let out a harsh breath. "Yes, Sir."

It didn't take long for Draco's body to begin to react properly. This particular ring would not prevent Draco from coming; quite the opposite, in fact. The reaction started slowly, with the pink hue to his skin. Rabastan watched as Draco bit his bottom lip, his teeth digging into the soft flesh, watched as the muscles of his thighs tightened, watched as his hands clenched, and his breath quickened.

"Please, Sir…"

Rabastan merely watched. Draco's jaw clenched and his eyes closed. A soft grunt escaped his throat. His breath hitched as his hips jerked.

" _Please_ , Sir, please…"

"Be still, Boy. You'll get what you want."

Rabastan's fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and touch. Draco's own fingers spread out, flexing on his thighs. The flush reached Draco's cheeks, turning his face an appealing shade of dull red as he panted. Tiny, quiet sounds, almost like whimpers, began to fill the room, exhaled with each of Draco's breaths. A louder sound was Rabastan's clue that Draco was close. It started as a low moan, and rapidly increased into an almost shout. He clenched his hands on his thighs and his head bent as he came, shooting his release up over his stomach.

"Good. Very good, Boy." Rabastan clicked his fingers again, ceasing the vibration. "Come here."

Standing, Rabastan waited for Draco to collect himself enough to stand before him. Draco didn't meet his eyes – as he had been trained – but Rabastan remedied this with a simple tug of his hair.

"Are you going to be good for me, Boy?"

Before Draco could answer, Rabastan clicked his fingers again, setting the ring vibrating again for a few seconds. Draco's mouth opened, a high-pitched whine issuing from his throat, before Rabastan turned the vibration off again.

"Yes," he gasped. "Yes, Sir."

"Do you want to come again, Boy?"

Draco's eyes were glazed, his mouth still open and panting. "I – I want what you think I deserve, Sir."

Rabastan smiled. "Good." He held out his hand, the cat o' nine tails flying into it. "Stand over there, your palms flat on the wall."

He watched as Draco made his way over to the spot he had indicated. His steps were a little wobbly, widening Rabastan's smile. When Draco was positioned, Rabastan ran the tails of the cat through his hand.

"Do you know why this is happening, Boy?"

Draco grunted as the whip lashed over his shoulders. "Because I failed the Dark Lord."

Rabastan sucked a disappointed breath in through his teeth. Shaking his head, he brought the tails down across Draco's shoulders again.

"No. Try again."

"Because – ah! – because you enjoy punishing me."

Rabastan chuckled. There was no denying that fact. He couldn't let Draco get away with it, however. Stepping forward, he pressed himself along Draco's back, yanking his hair again with his free hand so their eyes met.

"You giving me cheek, Boy?"

Draco's eyes widened. They had darkened with his first orgasm, and had yet to return to normal. Releasing his grip on Draco's hair, Rabastan set the ring vibrating again, enjoying the deep moan it caused.

"Well?"

"Mmm… No – no, Sir," Draco managed, his eyes sliding closed. "I… Mmm… I would never…"

Smiling again, Rabastan turned the ring off. Draco's groan this time was disappointed. Rabastan backed off, positioning himself behind Draco again. This time when he brought the cat down, it was across the small of Draco's back.

"Do you know why this is happening, Boy?" Rabastan asked again, hoping to prompt the correct answer from him.

Draco's head fell forward. His breaths were coming hard and fast, although whether it was due to the pain or pleasure, Rabastan couldn't tell. Drawing the cat back, he aimed it right at the top of Draco's thighs. Draco tensed, hissing a breath in through his teeth.

"Because my Aunt told you to?"

Disappointment rushed through Rabastan again. Shaking his head, he clicked his tongue. This time, he aimed higher, making sure to mark Draco in places Bellatrix would want to inspect.

"Do you believe I follow instructions Bellatrix gives me, Boy?"

Draco arched his back, causing the tails to wrap around his body. The tips – hard knots of leather – smacked against Draco's chest, causing him to grunt.

"No, Sir."

The contradiction had Rabastan smiling. He kept quiet for a few more rounds of the cat, creating deep red welts over Draco's back. When it appeared that the oldest of the welts were about to break the skin, he stopped. Stepping forward, he inspected his handiwork.

Draco hissed as Rabastan ran his fingertips lightly over the raised welts. The darker lines ran across Draco's shoulder blades, the bone beneath adding to the pain he knew Draco must be feeling. Listening to the sounds Draco was making, Rabastan pressed a little harder over the abused flesh.

"Oh, I–"

"Hush, Boy." Rabastan pressed down on one of the darker welts again, causing Draco to grunt. Seeing the tensing of Draco's shoulders, he decided to change tactic. "Do you know why I am doing this?"

The breath Draco let out was a little shaky. His hands clenched against the wall as he clearly tried to control his voice before speaking.

"Because… Because I am yours to punish."

The wave of pleasure that washed through Rabastan's chest caused him to let out a soft groan. Tracing his fingertips along the welts on Draco's back, he tossed the cat back to the bed. With his hand now free, he clicked his fingers, setting the ring vibrating again.

"That's right, Boy. You are _mine_ to punish. _I_ am the one who gets to decide if what you have done is worthy of punishment. _I_ am the one who decides what the punishment is to be. _I_ am the one who gets to deal out the punishment."

Running his fingers over the welts again and again, he watched as Draco began to lose control. The muscles beneath Rabastan's fingers tensed as he touched them. Stepping closer, he pressed close to Draco's backside, allowing himself to feel the trembling of Draco's thighs, and the heaving of his chest as he leant forward.

"Mmm… Please, Sir…"

Rabastan pressed on one of the darker welts, causing Draco to moan. Using both hands, he began to massage Draco's skin, adding the sharp sensation of the pain from the welts to the pleasure of the ring. Draco pressed back into him, clearly offering himself.

"Do you want to come, Boy?"

Draco let out a deep sound from the back of his throat. He arched up into Rabastan's hands, and pressed his arse back, rubbing against Rabastan's cock.

"M-may I, Sir?"

The grin Rabastan gave felt feral. "No touching, Boy."

Draco whined, but obeyed. Instead, he pressed as close to Rabastan as possible, wriggling and moaning.

"Are you ready, Boy?"

"Please… please, Sir."

Rabastan slid his hands up and down Draco's back, keeping the pressure of the pain in the forefront of Draco's mind. When Draco was almost whimpering with each breath, he held out his hand and Summoned the lube from the bed. Dipping his fingers in, he leant forward.

"Come, Boy."

Wrapping his hand around Draco's cock, Rabastan stroked him only twice before Draco was coming a second time. Shuddering and moaning, he pressed into Rabastan's hand, thrusting his hips forward as his body spasmed. The sensation of having Draco trembling in his hands proved almost too much for Rabastan's own control. Removing his other hand from the welts on Draco's back, he dipped his fingers into the lube and sent it hovering back to the bed.

"Stand up, Boy. You're not done yet."

The sound Draco made when Rabastan's finger entered him was pleading. There were no words, but there didn't need to be.

"You wanted to come, Boy. Are you unsatisfied?"

Arching his back, Draco pressed onto the finger thrusting into him. "No, Sir," he gasped. "I… I can do this."

Grinning, Rabastan gently added a second finger. His other hand had not left Draco's cock, the vibrations from the ring causing it to tingle a little. Stroking along Draco's length, he matched the rhythm to his other hand, working Draco up again slowly.

"Yes, Boy. You can do this," he muttered, his concentration fixed on the feeling of having Draco helpless before him. "You are going to be good for me, aren't you, Boy? You're going to come on my cock, aren't you?"

Draco let out a groan. "Yes, Sir, yes… I'll be good for you…"

When Rabastan removed his fingers, Draco whined. It didn't last long, though. Lining up with Draco's entrance, he jerked his hips forward, entering him roughly. The gasp of pleasure Rabastan heard could have come from either of them. Closing his eyes, he gave himself a few seconds. He couldn't tell if he was imagining it, but he swore he could feel the vibration from the ring right through him. He stroked his hand along Draco's cock a few times before pulling out and thrusting back in.

"Mmm… Please, Sir."

Draco's voice was breathless. He leant back against Rabastan as much as was possible with his hands still against the wall, adding to the pressure. Rabastan smiled.

"Good, Boy."

Pleasure rocked through Rabastan as he began to move. He kept his hand on Draco's cock – hard again already – stroking it every few thrusts. His free hand went to the welts on Draco's back, smearing the remaining lube over his hot, red skin. When Draco began to moan, he increased his pace.

"You are _mine_ , do you hear that, Boy? _Mine_." Rabastan grunted, the hand on Draco's back curling to scrape his fingernails down along the welts. "Mine to punish. Mine to fuck. _Mine_."

"Y-yes, Sir…" Draco pressed back into him, moving with Rabastan's pace. "Please…"

The hand on Draco's back moved to his hip, both holding him still as well as steadying Rabastan as his head began to spin. Draco was always so hot, tight, and welcoming, but this seemed different. Rabastan leant forward, rubbing his chest hairs over the welts with each thrust.

"Come, Boy. Come for me."

Draco let out a high-pitched sound. "Yes, Sir." He rocked back and forth, thrusting his hips and pushing back into Rabastan's thrusts, then forward into his hand. "Yes…"

Rabastan felt Draco's orgasm through the clenching of his body rather than any release in his hand. Curled around Draco's body as he was, all Rabastan could really do was lower his head to bite down on Draco's shoulder. The grip he had on Draco's hip tightened as his skin tingled with the building pleasure. His mouth opened on a silent scream as he finally crested the last wave of pleasure. His body froze, his brain going completely blank as he shot his release into Draco's body. Shivering and shaking with the intensity of it, he felt himself sliding down to the floor.

"Good… Good, Boy…" he managed to gasp out as he felt Draco casting cleansing charms over the both of them. "There's my good boy."

When he felt Draco settling down in front of him, Rabastan wrapped his arms possessively around him. Holding Draco close, he allowed himself to drift on the waves of pleasure of his afterglow. He stayed awake just long enough to hear Draco drop off to sleep. With Draco's heavy breaths the only sound in the room, Rabastan relaxed, his Boy in his arms.


End file.
